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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25848103">Break it Down to This Next Breath</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyGuppy/pseuds/PuppyGuppy'>PuppyGuppy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bittersweet, Gen, Hurt/No Comfort, M/M, Mentioned Aqua (Kingdom Hearts), Mentioned Ventus (Kingdom Hearts), Post Re:Mind, post kh3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:28:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,579</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25848103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyGuppy/pseuds/PuppyGuppy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He could delete the hats, delete the gifts, delete the table and chairs, delete everything until it was just them. With a couple, now skilled clicks, he could push them closer, himself and Sora; could make them touch, hug, dance, could even make them <em>kiss.</em> He could do <em>all of that.</em> And still, he couldn’t cry. He couldn’t laugh. Couldn’t force the smile in real life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Re⊕Collect: A Soriku Fic Collection</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Break it Down to This Next Breath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Here ya have it, my <b>Re:Collect Zine</b> piece, y'all! I'm still so honoured to have been invited to participate in this project. I can only hope my little contribution can find just as happy of a home in some of your hearts as the rest have. 💙 Art is drawn by myself, a special thanks to pinkyblues for the beta read, and this whole fic is <em>heavily</em> inspired by Frozen 2 (peek that title!)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Waking up for Riku was rough. Okay, waking up for Riku was <em>always </em>rough, but the fatigue he felt settle deep into his bones that morning upon his first few blinks into consciousness was... rougher than usual. He’d helped win <em>wars </em>and had never gotten up feeling like this. This empty. Like everything was where it should be, and <em>that </em>somehow made things so, so much worse. Because it was his <em>birthday. </em>It was his birthday, his brain told him. Despite purposefully not having looked at a calendar for what had felt like months, despite not even knowing the <em>time, </em>he knew it was his birthday. He was eighteen years old today.</p><p>Eighteen years old, and all his bones were fixed in their proper places. His organs were all intact and automatically functioning, which, as far as human biology went, was a <em>godsend. </em>Riku really would have withered away to dust by now were it not for that. Were it not for his heart still beating, <em>somehow, </em>sending blood and oxygen throughout his body. Sometimes he forgot to breathe, but even his <em>lungs </em>kicked into autopilot when they felt their captain falling asleep at the wheel.</p><p>However, his bones lacked marrow, his heart lacked warmth, and his fingers and toes forever tingled due to poor circulation; they were used to <em>physical </em>battles. Broken, only to be quickly healed and then calloused. Not stagnating through <em>emotional </em>battles.</p><p>Not <em>this</em>. Riku wasn’t used to <em>any </em>of this.</p><p>Eighteen years old, and he was spending his birthday <em>alone.</em></p><p>Which, if he was being honest (something he was still working on), celebrating his birthday alone was nothing new. But not like <em>this. </em>This was cold, this was empty, this was <em>numb. </em>Sora was <em>gone. </em>And not in the sleeping sense; not in the way that Riku could still see him. There was no pretty pod he could press up against and peek inside this time—with its low thrum of electricity and magic he didn’t understand, keeping his best friend safe and warm, while he fogged up the glass with his lips. He’d still <em>talked </em>to Sora through that birthday. Though he wasn’t sure if his friend even remembered—it didn’t matter. Sora had <em>been </em>there.</p><p>Nor were there any dreams to dive into this time that weren’t his own. And he tried avoiding <em>those </em>as much as possible now. They were always... the same. Just like being awake. <em>Everything was the same. </em>Fairy Godmother had said his dreams held <em>the key. </em>But, a whole year dead and gone, and Riku was no closer to finding Sora. It was such a silly thing— <em>his dreams held the key. </em>What use was a key if they couldn’t find the lock? What use was a key if Riku wasn’t strong enough to <em>turn it? </em>He knew Fairy Godmother had meant well. But, the little second wind of hope that revelation had given him was almost <em>worse </em>than all the false leads and limbo. In a time he’d thought he couldn’t possibly hurt anymore, she’d showed up with soft eyes, round and full of wonder; a hopeful smile, and whispers of magic, dreams and <em>wishes. </em>And Riku? Riku’d <em>believed </em>her. Had been so sure, so desperate to <em>be </em>sure. It made <em>sense.</em></p><p>Sora had gone to an unreachable realm. At least, by anyone other than <em>him. </em>Riku. Sora’s <em>Dream Eater. </em>He just had to follow the Link into the Sleeping Realm, except that—</p><p>The Link hadn’t worked since Sora’d left. And he <em>knew </em>that. Still, he’d let himself <em>hope. </em>Because that’s what Sora would do. What Sora would have wanted <em>him </em>to do. Never stop believing. But, the chains between them had broken. He knew that, could <em>feel </em>that; the links dangling weak and useless and leading to nowhere from somewhere deep in his heart. And, <em>still, </em>Riku had spent night after night forcing himself to sleep, chase his dreams, sniff out anything that could be a clue. However, it was hard doing it on his own. He wasn’t afraid to admit that now. One did not win a war on his own. He needed his <em>friends. </em>The few that he had.</p><p>But, those that made up the Restoration Committee were off turning the old castle of Hollow Bastion on its head. And, when they weren’t doing that, they were still, well, <em>restoring Radiant Garden. </em>Helping civilians, helping <em>him. </em>After all, he <em>did </em>live in Merlin’s cottage now, more or less. He couldn’t very well go back to the islands. Not when Cid’s computer was <em>here. </em>Not when <em>Sora </em>was here. Not the <em>real </em>Sora, of course not. But, the next best thing. Better than waking up empty handed and empty hearted—at some point he’d even ran out of tears. There had been tears of loneliness. Tears of fear, regret, frustration. Loss, anger, and <em>need. </em>Pathetic tears. And then...no tears. He’d ran himself dry, and couldn’t even cry over <em>that</em>.</p><p>So, he’d stopped dreaming. Hadn’t stopped <em>believing, </em>but kind of stopped <em>hoping</em>. His dreams may still hold the key, but he tucked that key away into some sad corner of his heart, safe and sound until <em>needed. </em>He’d no longer fret over the ridges and notches of that key. Besides, he’d memorized its teeth long ago. He knew the streets he’d walk, the rain he’d smell, the signs he’d read. He knew the gaze he’d feel.</p><p>It was his eighteenth birthday, and he couldn’t even cry over <em>that.</em></p><p>He wasn’t anything special, anyways. A <em>Master, </em>yes, but one of a few. One of the only ones not combing through the Realm of Darkness for any clues Sora might have possibly left <em>down there. </em>Or for Vanitas. Riku was a Dream Eater, too. A special case. But, so was <em>Chirithy, </em>and she was Ventus’ friend. He may have been doing his part, his <em>best, </em>but so was everyone else. Donald and Goofy were still retracing their steps, visiting old worlds and old friends for anything missed. Even the Twilight Town Gang had banded together to do what they could, which admittedly, wasn’t <em>much; </em>but Lea liked to stick around sometimes for moral support, and Pence was working alongside Cid and Ienzo trying to uncover the mysteries of computers and codes. And <em>Kairi...</em></p><p>Kairi had only just gotten back before she’d begged to be put to sleep. Wouldn’t listen to rhyme nor reason; she’d convinced herself that somewhere <em>inside her </em>was a clue. Either in her heart or her memories, since Sora had done everything to save <em>her. </em>Had traded his life for hers. And though she could be right, it had been a <em>year. </em>A year, and she still slept peacefully, while the rest of them—while <em>he</em>—struggled. <em>Suffered. </em>He couldn’t blame her for doing what she thought was right, but oh, did he have to <em>try </em>and not hate her. Craved to trade places with her, even for just a day. Just so she could see what it was like to live without him. With the memory of him. Naminé’s days of messing with memories were over, but she’d still offered to <em>help </em>Riku, if he only ever asked.</p><p>It was getting harder and harder not to.</p><p>But, he never did. He’d rather keep the bruises under his eyes; permanent fixtures brought about by the black and blue baggage of too many sleepless nights. He’d rather keep his chapped, trouty mouth; brought about by too many bitten lips and, if he smiled, he wanted it to be <em>real. </em>Brought about by, and for, someone <em>real. </em>He’d rather keep his voice, quiet and hoarse; brought about by <em>both </em>too many screams and too many held back words. And if he laughed, he wanted it to be because <em>he </em>made him laugh. Like he’d <em>always </em>made him laugh.</p><p>It was his eighteenth birthday, and he couldn’t even laugh over <em>that.</em></p><p>He could open up Data Greeting and dress Sora up in a tiny little party hat. He could sit Sora down with a cake, and presents. Silly glasses, and even a tiny, digital replica of himself. He could do <em>all that. </em>He could make himself smile, take a photo. Could even print it out and hang it on the wall if he wanted. <em>Happy 18th Birthday, Riku!! </em>He knew Merlin wouldn’t mind. He could delete the hats, delete the gifts, delete the table and chairs, delete everything until it was just <em>them. </em>With a couple, now skilled clicks, he could push them closer, himself and Sora; could make them touch, hug, dance, could even make them <em>kiss. </em>He could do <em>all of that. </em>And still, he couldn’t cry. He couldn’t laugh. Couldn’t force the smile in real life.</p><p>The data battles didn’t even do much for him anymore. They drug out long sighs, and that was about it. He’d gotten through most of them by now, but some were still needlessly difficult, and others he just... couldn’t bring himself to even <em>try. </em>Not again. Not after the first time. Not after the <em>real </em>time. Sure, getting to battle the likes of Ansem and Xemnas again, without the risk of his life on the line, almost felt <em>good. </em>Had almost felt like sending off old friends, even if they weren’t the greatest of people. Even if they’d spent years tormenting him, everyone made a choice, everyone had a story, and were it not for them, who would Riku be now? <em>Replitwo, that’s who. </em>Or, Dark Riku. His worst replica, whatever he was called. He’d started that battle up, <em>once, </em>only to last a few seconds, and hadn’t worked up the courage to try again. It was too <em>painful. </em>Too <em>personal. </em>Every hit to his replica was a hit a little too close to home. It filled him with guilt, embarrassment, rage; reminded him of being fifteen and so, so <em>stupid</em>. Reminded him of how this all started. Why Sora was <em>gone. </em>They could blame Destiny all they wanted, but Riku wasn’t in very good standing with her at the moment. He’d much rather blame himself. Had he just—</p><p>Done literally <em>anything </em>different.</p><p>Maybe, just maybe, Sora would still be here.</p><p>Battling Xion was much the same, but she served as a whole different kind of reminder. She proved to Riku just what he’d been willing to do for Sora. And, he feared, what he was <em>still </em>willing to do for Sora. But, he knew better now; knew more about matters of the heart, and those who did or did not have them. He knew more about himself, his strengths and weaknesses. The Light and the Darkness. He knew better now; he just had to keep telling himself that. Keep telling himself that, someday, <em>he’d </em>get his happy ending. Something that battling Terra-Xehanort, or Terranort, reminded him of relentlessly. Terra had suffered much the same fate that Riku had. He’d made some poor choices, misguided by emotion, manipulated and forced to endure horrific trials and tribulations. But, <em>Terra </em>had gotten his happy ending. So Riku couldn’t help but wonder why he couldn’t get <em>his.</em></p><p>It wasn’t fair, but <em>none </em>of this was. <em>Life </em>wasn’t fair.</p><p>But Terra, more than anybody, <em>understood. </em>And, lucky for him, <em>forgave </em>him. All too easily, whether or not he deserved it. It made him feel <em>worse. </em>The singular silver lining in all of this; how close they’d gotten, Terra and him. Other than Kairi returning safely, of course. But, Kairi was <em>asleep, </em>and Terra and him shared so, so much, both in heart and history. It was a refreshing kind of friendship, one without too many questions. What was there to say, when they both just <em>knew? </em>After all, just a year ago, Riku had learned just how much history they really, truly shared. It was bittersweet, but comforting. <em>Both </em>had sought refuge in the Darkness; Xehanort’s, then Maleficent’s, and then Ansem’s. Only to <em>both </em>then be overrun by that same Darkness. Riku, <em>as </em>Ansem, and Terra as the Guardian. <em>His </em>Guardian. All that time...</p><p>Riku didn’t know.</p><p>Terra couldn’t say.</p><p>But, it wasn’t <em>all </em>bad. Just like <em>the Darkness </em>wasn’t all bad. It had brought them <em>together. </em>And now, amidst it all, they were close friends. Could finally bask in that bond as Mentor and Apprentice. Except that, Riku had kind of <em>surpassed </em>Terra, and had already become a Master. Terra hadn’t passed any exam, but everyone liked to ignore that and treat him as a Master all the same. That didn’t mean they couldn’t still surprise each other with a thing or two, though.</p><p>And that’s just what it was—a <em>surprise</em>—when the open, single room of Merlin’s cottage warped around the edges, and a dark corridor formed in its center. And spat out the very man himself. <em>Terra. </em>His friend still dressed from head to toe in keyblade armor, fresh from the Realm of Darkness, and bringing with him the telltale chill, but also... a cupcake?</p><p>Riku startled, but quickly recovered, and swiveled his chair around so that he could fully face his friend as he went about removing his armor. It was always a bit of a sight to see; cloth and metal cracking, popping, and then <em>folding, </em>in on itself in a sharp splash of light and noise until neatly tucked away into the mechanism on his shoulder. Riku didn’t understand how it worked, but he’d never <em>asked. </em>Assumed it must just be magic; how a helmet and boots could somehow fit inside a button the same size as the palm of his hand.</p><p>He blinked the dots out of his vision until the room returned to its normal lamplight glow. But, blinking didn’t help his eyes feel any less foggy. He’d been staring at the computer screen for far too long. And not sleeping enough. <em>Clearly. </em>But, Terra seemed to pay no attention to that. Didn’t comment on the state of disarray Riku’s hair was in, or on the knitted blanket draped around his shoulders, despite the constant warm and welcoming weather of the cottage. No, Terra didn’t mention any of that, though Riku knew he <em>had </em>to see it. Terra just smiled, bright and beautiful, and played dumb as he held out his hands.</p><p>“Hey, Riku? Happy birthday.”</p><p>It <em>was </em>a cupcake. A simple, cute kind of confectionery, probably chocolate or something similar, due to its dark color. Topped with purple icing, pink and yellow sprinkles, and a singular, rainbow candle stuck right through the center, unlit. <em>Unimposing.</em></p><p>Riku blinked, but not because of dots in his eyes. He flicked his eyes from the cake, to his friend, then back again, face slack in disbelief. He hadn’t expected—he didn’t even think anyone else <em>knew</em>—he didn’t have to—</p><p>“Oh, wait, right! You have to make a wish.” Terra, apparently oblivious and misunderstanding <em>why </em>Riku was staring, quickly whispered a small fire spell over the cupcake, and set the candle ablaze.</p><p>Riku blinked again, but his eye had been caught by that candle, that tiny little flicker, and there it <em>stayed. </em>Subconsciously, he chewed on the inside of his cheek. Better than his poor lips.</p><p>“Make a wish...” he murmured, to no one in particular. Terra nodded, and lifted the cupcake higher, <em>encouraging</em>, as if the proximity of the treat would entice Riku to take it. To make his wish. But, it didn’t. Riku just stared at the flame, now <em>closer, </em>and watched it dance between them until the wax started dripping. <em>Make a wish. </em>What a thought. What a <em>joke. </em>Had Terra really just come here for <em>this? </em>To taunt him? To rub in his face just how stupid and hopeless things like <em>dreams and wishes </em>really were?</p><p><em>No.</em> No. When Riku flicked his gaze back up, he knew that was just his bitterness talking. The Darkness he still struggled with, every day, now more than <em>ever. </em>Terra was still smiling at him. Softly, patiently, <em>knowingly. </em>With blue eyes, not the exact shade Riku <em>wanted, </em>but still familiar and friendly and almost purple in the candlelight. With brown, spiky hair, a shade too dark, and laying wrong. Which is to say, it was laying just <em>right. </em>This was Terra. <em>Not </em>Sora. Sora was <em>gone. </em>Terra was his friend; still here, and giving him a birthday gift. A <em>cupcake, </em>for crying out loud. The least Riku could do was <em>take it. </em>Make a wish. How hard could it be?</p><p>He took a shaky breath, then carefully took the gift from Terra’s hands, until he could cradle it against his chest. Close to his heart. The candle provided the barest hint of warmth. What good was one last wish? What <em>harm </em>was one last wish? Riku closed his eyes and searched his heart. Tugged on his half of the Link until the loose, cut ends of the chains clanged together. He sighed, soft and slow, and with it went his silent wish. When he opened his eyes, he lifted the cupcake closer to his face, and then blew the candle out.</p><p>
  <em>Silence.</em>
</p><p>Deafening, crushing, <em>disappointing </em>silence. He’d been stupid, <em>again. </em>But, he’d done what Terra had asked of him. He <em>did </em>appreciate the visit. He really did. He’d taken the cupcake, made his wish, and now he knew he should smile. <em>It was the least he could do. </em>When Riku looked back up, his friend’s expression had changed. Though Riku had put the candle out, it seemed all he’d done was blow the flame from the cupcake and right into Terra’s eyes. There was a <em>fire </em>in them that hadn’t been there before.</p><p>Riku’s breath hitched.</p><p>“Riku, we found something.”</p><p>Riku almost dropped the cupcake.</p><p>Apparently, <em>what </em>they’d found was... a flower. Which wasn’t necessarily <em>uncommon </em>in the Realm of Darkness, but this flower was <em>different. </em>Riku could recall seeing small patches of glowing flowers here and there, all various shades of blue and purple. But, according to Terra, <em>this </em>flower was <em>white. </em>White, if not translucent, and kind of in the middle of nowhere. It was enough to pique Riku’s interest, but he had to try very, <em>very </em>hard to keep an open mind. And keep that open mind <em>off </em>of Sora. It could be <em>nothing</em>. It could even be <em>something</em>, but something not remotely related to his best friend and his whereabouts. Just because he’d made a wish in a moment of weakness (it <em>was </em>his birthday), did <em>not </em>mean he’d be stupid enough to <em>hope.</em></p><p>It’s not like Riku could just waltz right back into the Realm of Darkness, anyway. He had his old organization coat stashed... somewhere, but it probably wouldn’t even fit anymore. Without <em>some </em>form of protection, Riku would be lucky to last five minutes down there, at the most. Before the realm started getting to him. But, it seemed Terra had already thought <em>that </em>through, too.</p><p>“Actually, it was <em>Aqua’s </em>suggestion. But the cupcake—that was <em>my </em>idea!” Terra was quick to correct him.</p><p>He was such a sweetheart; refusing to take credit for what wasn’t his. But, taking so much pride in what <em>was</em>, no matter how small. It was no wonder the Darkness had swallowed him up.</p><p>Instead of a cupcake in Terra’s hand this time, it appeared to be a button. Damn near identical to the one his friend wore on his shoulder, actually. Palm-sized and white, a little reflective in the lamplight. Riku furrowed his brows in question, but he didn’t dare ask it. He had a feeling he already knew the answer, but <em>still </em>wouldn’t believe it.</p><p>“Take it, Riku. It’s yours.”</p><p>Just as carefully as he had with the cupcake, Riku took the button from Terra’s hands and gently clasped it in his own. Curiously, he turned it this way and that; he wasn’t sure what he was looking for, maybe a <em>secret </em>or something. But, what he found was <em>nothing. </em>It was just a button, and that was that. Riku didn’t want to seem dumb, but this kind of technology really did go right over his head.</p><p>“How do I...?”</p><p>Terra snorted and blushed, a hand darting up to rub sheepishly at the back of his neck. It seemed <em>Terra </em>was the dumb one, thinking he’d know how such a thing worked.</p><p>“<em>Sorry</em>, you just gotta give it a good tap. You’re gonna wanna keep a good hold on it, though.”</p><p>His friend was still blushing, and <em>smirking, </em>in such a way that told Riku he’d just have to wait and see. He’d done crazier things than press a button. He closed his eyes, took a deep, steadying breath, and then slammed his free hand down on the button. What happened next was all a bit of a blur, one which Riku couldn’t even begin to describe. It felt like he’d been caught in an Aeroga spell. Wind and blood rushed through his ears, against his eyes and around his hair. It felt like a thousand tiny hands had burrowed into his body, grabbed his veins, and <em>pulled. </em>It didn’t hurt, but it definitely felt weird, like someone was stitching him a sweater, but the sweater was made out of <em>him. </em>His flesh and blood. It was unreasonably loud.</p><p>And then it was over.</p><p>Once again, Riku was left blinking dots out of his eyes. He registered the feeling of weight on him, but it wasn’t anything too constricting. He then registered the low, slightly muffled tune of a whistle. <em>Helmet. Right. </em>Terra was looking at him, wide eyes and a wide, almost wolfish grin, and Riku could only describe that look as <em>awe. </em>His friend’s eyebrows had disappeared somewhere in his hairline. The last time someone had looked at him like <em>that </em>was the first time The Good Fairies had gifted him with a new wardrobe. And it had been <em>Sora </em>looking at him like that. He still didn’t know what to do under such attention, so he shifted his feet a little awkwardly, and blinked at the sound of metal. It had really worked. <em>He had keyblade armor.</em></p><p>“Well, come on, Riku! Give us a turn.” Terra laughed and waved one of his hands in a loose circle.</p><p>Riku huffed, <em>amused, </em>the hot air ghosting around his face due to the helmet. He spread his arms out and put himself on display as he slowly turned around for his friend. He then took a moment for himself, dragging his eyes slowly up his own body and taking in the intricacies of the armor. <em>His </em>armor. Of course, without a mirror, he couldn’t see it all, but he got the gist. It really was <em>something. </em>The main plates were ivory, while the protective suit between his clothing and the metal appeared to be a deep purple. The accents were all a glittering gold. A glance at his fingertips showed his gauntlets ending in points. They reminded him of talons, dipped in gold. His boots looked a little bit like Aqua’s, from what he could remember; they ended in just as dangerous of a point, but were a bit sturdier around the heel, like Terra’s. His chest bared a familiar sigil— <em>Sora’s. </em>Not the crown that everyone expected, no, that was one of <em>Riku’s. </em>But a heart. It framed his chest, purple and gold. That’s about all he could really see, other than the flowing fabric of a purple cape from the corners of his eyes. It all looked very... <em>different. </em>Not what Riku had expected at all. He felt almost <em>regal. </em>And he didn’t know how to handle that.</p><p>Luckily, Terra pulled him out of his thoughts with a quirked brow. He gestured towards Riku’s back and asked, “Isn’t that the mark of a Dream Eater? On your back. Under the cape.”</p><p>As close as they were, there were still <em>some </em>things that Terra didn’t know. Mostly because Riku had yet to learn how to talk about it with anyone other than Sora, and those who already knew. Riku wasn’t sure how to respond, so he reached up to take off his new helmet and nodded, just once. He hoped his friend would leave it at that. The helmet in his hands was also white, with the same gold accents. However, the protective screen over his eyes was purple, right along with the tips of the ears protruding off the crown of it. No, not ears, but <em>wings, </em>upon closer inspection. The wings of a Komory Bat.</p><p>Riku delicately traced the edge of one with a metal claw and smiled. It was small, a barely-there twist of his lips, but it was <em>something. </em>The first good feeling he’d had in ages. His heart clenched. He knew he should probably thank Terra, for the cupcake and the armor, but his friend beat him to the punch.</p><p>“So, ready to go flower picking?”</p><p><em>Flower picking </em>consisted of meeting up with Aqua and Ventus, then heading down some path or another deep into the Realm of Darkness. Despite the time he’d spent here in the past, the realm tended to shift quite often, and he’d never really mapped anything out. But, <em>these </em>three had spent the better half of a year down here, and seemed to know exactly where they were going. Riku was grateful for that. It meant he could focus on... not focusing. It was a feeling he wasn’t used to, especially down <em>here. </em>He was used to keeping his guard up; ignoring the whispers, refusing to indulge the hallucinations, and keeping the eyes on the back of his head <em>peeled</em>. There was a big difference between walking the realm as a visitor, and walking the realm as a resident. But, the new set of armor made things so much <em>easier. </em>It provided protection and an extra set of tools to fight against whatever might be lurking about, be it Heartless, Unversed, or his own darkened thoughts. And, best of all, it kept him <em>warm.</em></p><p>“You look <em>awesome, </em>Riku!” Ven exclaimed, a fair bit of time into their trek. His expression couldn’t be seen, but the sincerity and excitement was clear in his voice.</p><p>“You really do,” added Aqua, a lot calmer, but just as sincere. “You look like a white knight.”</p><p><em>A white knight? </em>Riku blushed, ever thankful for his own helmet. He wouldn’t go as far as calling himself <em>that </em>but... someone else had called him that, once. He’d been called a dreamer once, too. He wondered what Joshua would think of him <em>now.</em></p><p>“Have you tested out your glider yet?” Ven asked, again, and Riku actually had to stop in his tracks for that.</p><p>“My <em>what?”</em></p><p>“Don’t worry, you’ll have all the time in the world to play with that later, but first—<em>look.” </em>Terra was quick to change the subject, directing their eyes to what lay ahead.</p><p>Even though Terra had <em>told </em>him what to expect, it still paled in comparison to seeing the real deal. It really was just, right there, out in the open, and in the middle of nowhere. A large crystalline flower. It was <em>stunning. </em>Not any type of flower Riku recognized, but he was no expert. There were a few other flowers here and there, scattered across the sand, but they were the average variety of this realm. They had all stood there to take it in, but it was Riku who took the first step closer. And when he did<em>, </em>someone <em>sang. </em>It made him jump, heart hammering as he looked around; he didn’t recognize the voice, but he didn’t see anyone else around other than his friends.</p><p>“Did you hear that?” He asked. He couldn’t see the expressions on his friends’ faces, but their silence was very telling, and then Terra shook his head.</p><p>“Hear what?” He didn’t sound disbelieving, just... cautiously curious.</p><p>Riku took a shaky breath, and took another step forward. Nothing. Not a single sound that time. Just his breathing and the sifting sand. He shook his head—maybe he’d just imagined it. Maybe this armor wasn’t as protective as he thought. But, a few steps closer to the flower, and he heard it again. A voice, distinctive and <em>almost </em>familiar. But he couldn’t tell if it was the tone or the tune they were humming. He stopped again, turned and looked at his friends.</p><p>“There, that!”</p><p>His friends shrugged and shook their heads, but at least they’d started following him. Something wasn’t <em>right. </em>But it also didn’t feel... wrong. It was strange. How could something that <em>should </em>be frightening feel so relieving? He hadn’t realized he’d still been walking, body on cruise control as it followed that call. It was alluring. It sang of adventure<em>; </em>it rang of <em>hope</em>, of granted wishes and good dreams. It was everything he’d ever wanted, everything he was looking for, and it was <em>calling to him. </em>Asking him to follow. And he <em>did. </em>One foot in front of the other, until he was jogging, and then running, deaf to the worried shouts of his chasing friends. Uncaring of the frost starting to coat his armor, or how his breath fogged up his helmet. It didn’t matter, he could still see it; the flower getting closer and closer. Soon, he was close enough to see that it wasn’t made of crystal at all, but of <em>ice</em>. Smooth, sharp, breathtaking.</p><p>
  <em>Breathtaking.</em>
</p><p>He couldn’t breathe.</p><p>Still, the flower sang, and still, he followed; Riku recognizing the song, the <em>voice, </em>all too late<em>. </em>Too late did he think of it like a Siren, dragging him down to the depths of the abyss; the siren had <em>his </em>voice. <em>Sora’s. </em>And it was singing <em>their </em>song. Their Dearly Beloved. All at once, every single hope he hadn’t let himself have, and every good dream ever dashed, and every star he’d ever wished upon, came crashing down on him. <em>He couldn’t breathe. </em>Gasping and shaking inside his armor. His friends were getting closer. They would try to stop him. But he <em>had </em>to know. He was done <em>dreaming. </em>Done fighting fake battles. Done creating scenes on a screen.</p><p>It felt like his helmet was filling with water, and it took all his strength, but he managed one last deep breath. Held it until he stopped shaking. Lifted a hand to trace the delicate edge of a petal with a metal claw.</p><p>He held the key.</p><p>This was the lock turning.</p><p>He was standing on his heart station. And right in the middle of it, resting in the stained glass of his hand, was the flower. It was <em>freezing; </em>the kind of cold that cut straight through his armor and settled into his bones; replacing the fatigue which had replaced the marrow. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried not to shake as he took in his surroundings. It was his heart station, yes, but he’d never seen his heart station with <em>walls </em>before. Physical, towering structures of... his life, his memories, all in motion. It was ethereal. <em>Eerie</em>. He couldn’t bear to look. Instead, he took a clunky step forward, and the flower in front of him shifted—<em>no</em>—it’s just that his <em>perspective </em>shifted. And what he’d thought to be the same flower as before was not a flower at all, but <em>his best friend.</em></p><p>It was Sora. Not just encased in ice, but <em>made </em>of ice. Much like the flower.</p><p>Riku didn’t know what to think of it. But, he was drawn to it all the same. Not by any unnatural call or pull this time, but plain curiosity. It was just like seeing Sora on a screen. This was <em>ice. </em>There was no life in ice, no breath or warmth. But, <em>maybe...</em></p><p>Sora had told him about a friend once; a walking, talking, <em>snowman. </em>Olaf. And he’d said something about water holding memory. Ice was just <em>really cold water. </em>A fragment of frozen time. Different from when he’d reached out for the flower, Riku <em>hesitantly </em>lifted up a hand this time, to delicately drag the metal of his claws down the ice of Sora’s knee.</p><p>“Sora, I lo-”</p><p>The sound of shattering glass cut Riku off. He panicked, whirled around, but he was no longer on his heart station. He was up somewhere <em>high. </em>Atop a building and underneath the night sky. There were bright lights everywhere, and—this was his <em>dream. </em>He recognized the setting, if only just, but he’d never been <em>here </em>before. He heard a sharp <em>click!</em>, and when he turned around this time, there was a <em>weapon</em>. Some ominous thing, glowing red, and pointed directly at his head by someone who looked <em>well </em>too familiar. <em>Another </em>replica?</p><p><em>“Hey</em>—<em>wait!!” </em>Riku shouted, voice cracking as he threw out his arms.</p><p>But, that wasn’t <em>his </em>voice. And those weren’t <em>his </em>arms. They were <em>Sora’s!</em></p><p>All at once, every fear he ever felt, every nightmare he’d woken from, every new crack he’d picked into his broken heart, came crashing down on him. He couldn’t feel his toes, couldn’t feel his fingers, and he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t <em>scream. </em>Despite how it hurt; his organs had finally switched places with his soul and given out. They had gone to sleep. And soon, so would he. This memory wasn’t <em>his.</em></p><p>In what he imagined were the last few seconds of his eighteenth birthday, he <em>cried.</em></p><p>“-ve you.”</p><p>The sound of shattering glass was the first thing Sora heard. But, the first thing Sora thought was that <em>no</em>, the sound of shattering glass was <em>not </em>the first thing he’d heard; and that he’d forgotten something <em>important.</em></p>
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